


together, as a team

by kinpika



Series: McGenji Week 2016 [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic, M/M, McGenji Week, including scaring people, which means doing things as a team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-27 03:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8386273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: McGenji Week 2016Day Three Prompt: DomesticIrrelevant bullshit, as McCree might say. If he was awake. Genji promised to sufficiently kick his ass when he did finally decide to join him.





	

Crossing his legs, Genji watched on as McCree continued to sleep. It was a Sunday, and they could surely be afforded some luxuries, but it was getting on towards the afternoon, that much Genji could tell even with all the blinds drawn. Genji could only stand McCree snoring so much, before it began to wear on his nerves. Maybe it was slight jealousy, that he was able to be so calm, even when they were stuck in the middle of the cold. Or maybe—

Gently, Genji presses his hand to McCree’s forehead, just to make sure. A cold at this point of time would serve neither of them well, especially if it developed into anything worse, and it was not the first time Genji was thankful for Angela’s creation. At least he remained at a somewhat even temperature, although he had required McCree’s serape at the worst point. Even now, it was still around him, and Genji pulled at the edges, until he started to realise he was making a notably larger hole around the edge. Frowning at it, Genji released it with a slow exhale, fingers immediately working at another part of the serape.

And then, there’s a sudden _bang_ , resonating through their housing. In an instant, Genji stands, hands reaching for a blade. This recon mission came with many concerns, but he had not thought they would be found quite so easily. Omnic population in this area was high enough for Genji to blend in, as long as he did not speak much. When his hands do not find what he was looking for, he turns his attention from the door to where his blade sat during the night, now long gone. 

On the bedside table, McCree’s gun glinted, as if tempting him, and Genji looked away. A sword was not all he needed to fight, as he flicked his wrist. And he did not wish to leave McCree unarmed, should whoever was intruding get past him. At least, he told himself that, continuously, as he tried to wake McCree, shaking him.

“Jesse, you need to get up.”

All Genji receives is a grunt, and an arm swatting him away, before McCree rolls over. Helpful. Footsteps are heard, from down the hall, and Genji gives McCree one more look before leaving him, gun and all. He’d wake when it mattered — at least, Genji hoped. If he could find his _wakizashi_ , at the very least, then he would not be as concerned. Walking headfirst into potential combat, practically unarmed, it was not the first time Genji could hear Hanzo’s voice, snide and spiteful, in the back of his mind. 

“If I live, I will kill him,” Genji mumbles, shutting the bedroom door behind him. A foot down the stairs, Genji realises he wasn’t sure who he was talking about, and decided not to linger on that thought. No, he had made his peace. And in the years that followed, especially leading up to the recall, he had thought more clearly than ever. Being reunited with McCree was just a bonus, an unexpected and well loved bonus.

Except when he still managed to sleep through the occasional home invasion.

Slipping downstairs, Genji listens for anymore activity. Left. At least two people, not overly competent in keeping quiet. Maybe they assumed no one was home. Their second mistake, with their first one being entering the house of two highly trained agents. 

Barely any noise leaves Genji as he makes it to the kitchen counter, thankful for the insistence on reflective material around the place, no matter how gaudy it seemed. Whilst he would never understand the choices made with housing like this, at least it allowed him to see without exposing himself. McCree’s apparent love for the shinier things in life extended even to missions, and Genji made a note to remind himself to thank the man later. Or not, because he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit a mirror placed above a sink was a good idea.

Three of them, Genji’s first guess not entirely off, but his lips twisted in displeasure at how he had been incorrect. So that knock the previous night had likely rattled something, enough for his hearing to be off. Clothed in black, Genji could see they barely looked older than twenty, and weren’t carrying anything in the way of weapons. Kids, picking through the living room. Good thing they kept all material contained to the bedroom upstairs. The rest of the house was barely lived in, with McCree never willing to cook, and no need to use the unnecessarily large tv. They were out almost everything, scoping the area. Trying to find their target.

And it seemed the teenagers realised this, as one of them gets angry enough to kick the coffee table. How rude. With a sniff, Genji crawled closer, as they went left around the counter. Whilst they hadn’t made their way upstairs just yet, they were arguing. Irrelevant bullshit, as McCree might say. If he was awake. Genji promised to sufficiently kick his ass when he did finally decide to join him.

One of them turns as Genji ducks behind the dining table. Immediately, he hears the whispers, something was following them, no you check, no you. I told you this house was haunted! No one’s been here for years. _Oh_. So that’s what this was about. A dare, but the stealing was only secondary. Perhaps McCree had turned his commlink back on, as Genji most certainly wanted to relay this.

Above the table sat a chandelier, and Genji waited for the kids to peek in the kitchen, before aiming at the spot just beside it. Grinning under his visor, as the chandelier rocks, now that a shuriken had firmly embedded itself in the ceiling beside it, he can practically hear as the three inhale sharply, all at once. For good measure, he drags the chair across the linoleum, enjoying the climbing terror in one of the male’s voices. 

Surely, it was a question until how long he was discovered. But being able to open and close doors, sliding past every time they turned their heads to drag his nails along the floor, was too much fun to simply ignore. It would run out, soon enough, that much Genji was sure of. If they were smart, they would hit the light switch, before he had enough time to knock one of them down. From all those movies he had watched, a month ago, when those at their most recent base of operations thought it would be a good distraction, Genji had picked up a few things. Deeply, he regretted not asking for a rug, if only to be able to pull out from under their feet.

Except all good things had to come to an end. 

“Genji, you down here?”

Closing his eyes, Genji exhaled, as he heard the intruders freeze. There went his small amount of entertainment. Ghosts, they said, voices creeping higher. Genji watched them slowly edge back to the window they had kicked in, stepping further from the stairs. McCree’s heavy footsteps were accompanied by the slight click Genji associated with his gun. Whilst he couldn’t see McCree yet, he heard the telltale sign of him scratching his belly, and wondered just what he would do.

Quickly, Genji peeks around the corner to gauge just how far away the teenagers were compared to McCree, and waited. 

McCree starts to whistle, some jaunty tune Genji vaguely recognised, although he couldn’t put his finger on where. But as McCree got closer, the song got louder, and for whatever reason the teenagers hadn’t run out the window yet. Maybe this was why people always died in those sorts of movies — they never ran when they should’ve.

“Well, well… what have we here?”

Genji _almost_ jumps when he hears the screams, and the final sounds of people scrambling from their house. From his hiding point, above the overhead cabinets, Genji waits for McCree to finally turn around to open the blinds in the rest of the living room, before he drops to his feet. Making his way over, Genji slides his hands along McCree’s back, watching goosebumps rise under his fingers, before sliding hand in hand. “What did you do to them?”

“I should ask you that yourself, Genji. They were spooked long before I got down here.”

Smiling, Genji tilts his head in his best innocent impression. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

McCree gives him that one eyed squint, where he was trying to judge his expression under his visor. “‘course you don’t.”

It’s then that Genji notices the splatter on McCree’s shirt. Remnants of his wound from the night before. “You are still wearing that shirt,” he says with a frown, and coming to the conclusion that that may have been the final straw for the teenagers.

“Haven’t done the washing yet.”

“It’s been a week, Jesse.”

“Just because you don’t need to wear clothes doesn’t mean—” McCree stops partway, as he stares down. “You’re still wearing my serape.”

Looking down, Genji pulls it until it flares, before responding very calmly: “I am claiming this.”

“Oh no you’re not.”

McCree reaches out for him, and Genji can feel himself practically dance away, towards the busted window. Despite now being sure they wouldn’t attract company, Genji had a feeling they may attract the wrong kind. He was sure they would never hear the end of this back at the headquarters, and does have to wonder if he was cursed after all (or maybe it was McCree. No matter where he went, something got wrecked). Stepping around the kicked in fly screen, Genji assumed they could make a quick fix to last the rest of the day, at least.

“Jesse, we will need to fix the window.” Thankfully it wasn’t facing the street, and hopefully wouldn’t encourage anymore people.

McCree slings his arm around Genji, directing him away from the scene of the crime. “Later. I need a shower.”

Twisting out of his grasp, Genji stands in front of McCree, hands on his chest. Firmly, he speaks up again. “Jesse, the _window_.” 

“Then, lunch. Lots of lunch.” Continuing as if he had not heard Genji at all, McCree ducks his shoulder, and firmly pushes into Genji, hoisting him up over his shoulder. “I’m starved.”

“ _Jesse!_ ” 

Pure laughter follows, and no amount of protesting detracts McCree from his ultimate goal. Lower lip jutting out, Genji simply crosses his arms over McCree’s back, and waits until they make it to the bathroom. McCree’s hands are far too adventurous, and Genji is rather concerned about the window, and the invaders, but there’s a squeeze and he is still a man. 

“Three people managed to break in,” he reminds McCree, when he’s set down.

McCree doesn’t seem to hear him, as he pulls his shirt off. “Uh huh.” 

“You are acting — what is the word — cavaliar?”

“‘Cavali _er_ ’ is what you’re looking for, I think. And thank you.” His pants follow, and Genji does not stare.

“I am not joining you in the shower.”

Standing with his hands on his hips, McCree was just asking for a solid punch to the gut. God, Genji couldn’t stand him sometimes. “Your loss.”

“We may have to relocate.” 

“We can worry about that tomorrow.” McCree’s hands don’t stop at pulling off the serape, finding all the little clasps to remove Genji’s visor, setting it down gently despite all his insistence. Cupping Genji’s face between his hands, McCree does that really tender smile of his, that sends all of Genjis’ systems a flutter, until he opens his mouth again. “Get in the water.”

“No.”

“Come on, join me. I’ll make it worth your while.” He even waggles his eyebrows.

“The window is broken. People got in. Jesse, we have to— _mmfrgh?!_ ”

“You worry too much,” McCree laughs, once he lets Genji go. Slightly winded, Genji licks his lips as his world kind of tips over, when McCree continues to pepper his cheeks with wet kisses.

This was turning into an awful habit, but Genji relents, sliding his arms around McCree’s neck. Vaguely, he wondered how many broken windows they were up to, as far as recon missions went, and hoped Angela, or Jack, wouldn’t hurt him later for it.

 

“By the way, where is my sword?”

McCree grins. “I hid it.”

**Author's Note:**

> idk lol


End file.
